


Grocery List

by UnknownQuery



Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Blind Character, Blindness, F/M, High School, School, School’s Out Forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownQuery/pseuds/UnknownQuery
Summary: A series of one shots centering Iggy, his blindness, and how he handles it. Lowkey fluff. I may connect them, not really sure where this is going.





	Grocery List

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t think the Maximum Ride books are good. In fact, I think they are quite terrible. One of my major gripes is how they handle Iggy’s character. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about blindness, since it changes ones perception of their environment so deeply. This series is an avenue to explore differences in perception, coping with disability, and how to improve the Maximum Ride series in general.

“Iggy!” Anne shouted. “Come to the door!”  
Iggy cocked his head, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He was in the middle of cooking breakfast for the flock, listening to the pop of the oil in the pan where he was about to crack some eggs. Behind him, Gazzy and Nudge were arguing about some show they had probably watched the night before.  
“Iggy!” Anne called out again.  
With a deep sigh, Iggy reached out for the dial to turn the burner off. He fumbled for a bit until his hand hit it, and he quickly clicked it back to its resting position. Cautiously, he stepped away from the stove and brought his hand to the wall, brushing along it as he walked towards Anne’s voice. He was still getting used to his new residence. As he got closer, he could hear that Anne was talking to someone, a man. He sounded younger than Anne, though Iggy couldn’t be sure.  
“Iggy, this is Mr.Maskel, your mobility coach.” Iggy frowned.  
“Hello Iggy, nice to meet you.” Iggy stood there paralyzed. He never knew what to do in these situations. Did Mr.Maskel have his hand out? He’d heard a swish of fabric, but that could have been Anne-  
“Why don’t you come inside? It’s getting chilly.” Iggy followed them to the living room, listening to their footsteps and gliding his hand along the wall as he went.  
“Have a seat.” Iggy listened to the rustle of fabric as Mr.Maskel took a seat. He slowly found his way to the chair next to the couch and sat down.   
“So Iggy, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself.”  
Iggy shot a glance at where he guessed her head was, trying to figure out what this was about.   
“I’m going to help you learn how to manage daily tasks, and work your way towards independence.” Mr.Maskel said, answering his question. A feeling of indignity rose in Iggy’s chest. He didn’t need a mobility coach, he managed just fine on his own.  
“I’m alright” he said, standing up. “I can handle myself just fine.” Angrily, he headed back towards the kitchen, but his foot caught on something and he fell to the bracing himself with his elbows. “Oh my gosh!” Nudge cried out “are you alright Iggy?”   
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Iggy turned his head up. “Iggy, I know you don’t want to do this, but just hear Mr.Maskel out, ok?” Ann whispered in his ear. Iggy tried to keep the tears from welling in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. He had pretty much proved that he needed Mr.Maskel with that fall. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. Hesitantly he let Ann take his elbow and guide him back to his seat.  
“Anne told me that you’ve been blind for a few years now, but you’ve never had any formal assistance. Why don’t you tell me about any coping mechanisms you’ve developed.”  
“Coping mechanisms?”  
“Yep, anything you do to help you get around, figure out where you are.”  
Iggy tapped his fingers against his leg anxiously. Until recently, he had never really needed “coping mechanisms.” He had the E-shaped house memorized, and knew it like the back of his hand. And then, suddenly, it was all gone. His home, and all his perspective, and he was lost, utterly and completely.  
“I don’t know...” Iggy muttered, knowing the flock was probably listening. “I usually hang on to someone’s sleeve, or their belt loop. Or they hold onto my sleeve, and pull me along.”  
“Ok, good! So you have some techniques.” Mr.Maskel said jovially. “Have you ever used a cane?”   
“A cane? I’m blind, not crippled.”   
“Here. Hold this.”  
Iggy reached out, moving his hand slowly until he grasped his hand around the smooth, thin, round object. It was cold in his hands and ran about half his arm span. As he brushed his fingers along it, he discovered that one end of the cane had a padded handle and a small strap looped into it. The cane tapered like a set of stairs, and on the other end was a knob that rattled when he touched it. “What would I use this for?”   
“To help you know what’s around you. Come outside with me, we’ll test it out.”

————

Iggy made a face as he stepped outside, bracing against the cold. It was early fall, and the wind was whipping his face. The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked. He held Mr.Maskel's arm just above the elbow. This was called "sighted guide" according the mobility coach, and Iggy found the term mildly insulting, but he went along with it because he was still shaking off his embarrassment from tripping in the living room, and was too tired to fight with Anne.  
"Alright, go ahead and hold the cane out in front of you."  
Iggy did, thinking how lucky he was that Anne's house was in a rural area, without much in the way of neighbours to see him.  
"Great! Think of the cane as an extension of your arm. It's going to help you know whats coming up ahead. Swing it back and forth was you walk." Mr.Maskel gently nudged Iggy's arm in a back and forth motion. Iggy tried his best to keep his cool. He didn't like strangers touching him, especially unannounced. "Why don't you take a few steps?"  
Iggy did, lightly moving his cane from left to right as he walked. Every time he swung left, he hit something hard. "Is that the sidewalk?" He asked.  
"Yep, that's right." Mr.Maskel said jovially. "You have a good instinct for this."  
“Probably has something to do with the bird part of my DNA,” Iggy thought to himself.  
“Do you think you can get back to the house by yourself?”  
“Of course,” Iggy scoffed. But he hesitated. Could he get back without stumbling? Doggedly, he turned himself around and started his way back, the way he remembered coming. He used the cane to tap against the sidewalk, auditory assurance he was headed in the right direction. Then, suddenly, it stopped. Had the sidewalk disappeared? No, this must be a dip, like the ones he had noticed in New York. He took a right and headed towards where the house should be. On the way, the cane hit against something... something. What was it. He poked it a few times, and then kept heading towards where the house should be. He wasn’t about to let Mr.Maskel watch him grope around, trying to figure out what he had run into. After walking a few more feat, he realized his cane was no longer scraping sidewalk, he had found the grass. “Which means,” he thought to himself “that the path to the front door should be..”   
He moved his cane around inquisitively, and found the path, which was made up of lots of smaller stones, that rattled his cane as he brushed over it. After he found that, getting to the front door was a simple task.  
“You’re a natural!” Mr.Maskel said from behind Iggy, causing him to jump. In his happiness at finding the door, he had forgotten Mr.Maskel was watching. “I’ve never seen anyone pick up using a cane that quickly before. Ever. Let’s go inside, I have a few more things we need to do before we’re finished for the day.”  
Mr.Maskel took Iggy’s elbow (without asking, much to Iggy’s irritation) and led him back to the couch. Iggy heard the rustle of fabric as he sat down across from him. He noticed Max’s panicky voice coming from the kitchen and smothered a snicker. “Sounds like Max tried to do the eggs for me.” He thought.   
“What are some goals you have?” Mr.Maskel asked. Iggy lifted his head.  
“Goals?”  
“Yes. What are some things you’d like to be able to do?”  
A million things rushed into his mind at once, most involving beating up erasers, some fantasies of single handedly destroying the school with a mixture of bombs and blow torches-  
“I’d like to be able to go to the moon” Iggy mused, half joking.  
“I was more thinking of some things you’d like to be able to do by yourself. Like do the laundry, or choose your own clothes. For some visually impaired people, taking a trip to the grocery store is an important goal.”  
“The grocery store?” Iggy perked up. He loved cooking, but never really got to choose what they ate, because he never got to buy the ingredients. “I could do that? By myself?”   
“More or less. You might still need help finding the things on your list, but you could make the trip unaccompanied, for the most part.”   
“Huh” said Iggy. “Um yeah, that would be cool. I’d like to do that.”  
“Ok, I’m writing that down as our big goal.” Mr.Maskel said. “I’ll see you in a week. Keep practicing with your cane.”  
Iggy just nodded. The grocery store. All by himself. It had never occurred to him that he could do something by himself. In fact, he’d always been terrified of losing the flock, because he’d have no way of getting around without them. But maybe, just maybe, this cane (which he still thought was kind of stupid) could be all he needed.


End file.
